


The Singer of All Songs

by mo0nstone



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Based on a series called Chanters of Tremaris, F/M, Fantasy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Singer of All Songs (book), Slow Burn, age gap, basically they sing to create magic/manipulate the elements, mysterious stranger appears, tall dark and handsome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mo0nstone/pseuds/mo0nstone
Summary: Rey is a daughter of Taris, the Goddess of Ice. All her life, she has known nothing except what is within the great Ice wall of Antaris which is fortified with the songs of ice. Although she longs to see the outside world, she is devoted in her life's work as a novice, soon to be priestess. That is, until one day when a mysterious dark-haired stranger appears on the wrong side of the wall pursued by a great evil that seeks to destroy everything Rey holds dear..Or, in a world in which magic is woven through song, two very different people must find a way to work together to defeat an evil that aspires to hold the powers of all magic within its grasp.





	1. dawning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. Sooooo. I've not updated my other fics in a long time, as I've been going through a pretty tough time in my personal life and otherwise. Every time in the past few months that I've sat down to write for either of them, I just get completely stuck. Thank you to everyone who has read, kudos-d and commented on those. I hope that I can update them for you. I'm just glad to be writing something now. 
> 
> This fic is super exciting to me at the moment because it's based on one of my favourite fantasy series from when I was a kiddo. The series is called Chanters of Tremaris and it was written by Kate Constable. The first book, which this story is based on is called the Singer of All Songs. I just reread it recently and while it does not hold up as well as it did when I was 8 and reading it (I mean, it's clearly a book for children), it was still fun and I absolutely love the world that the author created. So, what better to do than to take two of my favourite characters and supplant them inside this world and share it with others? I hope you enjoy this first chapter, and I am already a third of the way through Ch.2 so it will be forthcoming shortly. I hope to update once a week, as I think having a schedule is pretty useful. See y'all on the flipside :)  
> -mo0nstone

The stars gleamed through a rising cloud of frosty exhalations that hung in the silent predawn air. One by one, the sisters turned away from the assembly, her steps carrying her to the wall to walk the sacred path. Rey’s feet bid her automatically to turn as the sister next to her departed. The well-worn ritual paths branched out in all directions from the concentric circle, tread once every three moons as long as memory stretched. 

The path Rey took wound through town and before long, she was in the evergreens that encircled the town, yet another insulation from what lay beyond Antaris. It was early, before bird chatter and before the nightly frost had yet turned to dew. Rey pulled her cloak closer and patiently kept on towards the sacred path. 

She felt it before her eyes perceived the sheer wall of ice through the trees. A low resonant hum, inaudible, crept into her hands, up through her arms and then through her whole body - a clear sign of the power of this magic. Then, all at once, the trees gave way and she stood for the briefest moment before the wall before turning to follow the sacred path along its inner edge. The song filled her mouth without bidding, automatically rising from her lips to strengthen, restore, and protect the wall. Rey felt the energy from the chant run through her fingers, feeling ghostly cold at her fingertips as she walked along the pathway. The words were habitual yet potent, and Rey lost herself in the ritual.

Rey brought her mind to the song she was singing, the song of strengthening, feeling as each word left her lips the wall solidified. It was impenetrable, higher than the height of six men stacked head to foot, and thicker than three men wide. Rey had never been outside, and none were allowed in aside from the quarterly traders that came for each seasonal festival. The walls had to be sung open then, allowing for safe passage through. Phasma, the Guardian, and Maz, Mother Priestess, and other high ranking priestesses performed this opening, and the traders were carefully inspected. 

The changing morning was signalled by the birds chiming in on her song. Their melodic chirps wove in and around the chant, greeting the dawning sun. As the sky turned from grey to golden, Rey rejoiced in the way the light glimmered off of the peaks of the wall. The song was echoed back to her by the wall and thrummed through her veins. 

Briefly, Rey’s mind wandered to the mid-Winter ceremony that loomed like a ghostly iceberg in the coming months. As a novice, she was not yet a full priestess, but if she passed the dangerous trial, Goddess willing, she would assume the role. Only six more moon cycles, and the rite would be upon her. Goosebumps broke out along her spine, thinking of the dangerous task of singing herself a walkway of ice across the black lake to the Blazetree. If her chantment failed, she would be plunged through the ice to drown. Rey shuddered at the thought of novices past, sinking to their deaths. 

As Rey rounded a bend, and her feet stopped dead in their tracks. Lying next to the path was a man, lying still - either asleep or dead. Rey willed her feet to take her closer. The man was dressed in all blacks and greys, evidently from outside of Antaris, as all fabric worn here was yellow or white to honor the Goddess. Panic rose within her. How did he get here? A cursory inspection of the wall showed that it was still intact with no breaks, gaps, or breach. Rey’s thoughts whirred through the possibilities of how he managed to get into Antaris, with no answer seeming more likely than the next. He was impossibly tall, definitely over 6 feet, and very broad. Rey slowed her approach now, caution seizing her movements. There was a great gash across his face, bisecting his eyebrow and cheek, and his foot was bloodied and mangled, visible through a split his black boots. He was also older than Rey had initially thought, perhaps in his early thirties. 

She should leave him here, as Phasma would instruct, and complete the ritual of strengthening. Rey could hear Phasma saying the Goddess would have her way with the intruder, and that the fortification of the wall was chief above all. It seemed wrong to leave him here, and he would surely die without help. Rey glanced at the wall then, and thought, _it's been here long before me, and will be here tomorrow without my help._

She knelt by the man, and gently swept his raven hair from his brow. The man’s eyes flew open, wild and wide with panic. He withdrew from her touch, and Rey heard a low growling tone emanate from him carrying words foreign to her ears. Suddenly, she felt her tunic seized from behind, as if a giant hand yanked her backwards. Rey attempted to spin around and look for the source of the pull, but there was nothing except the low growling from the darkly-clad stranger. Rey recognized the thrumming energy through her hands, the signal of chantment and magic. The stranger’s song was clearly not the high tonations of ice calls of Antaris, but still clearly a song of power.

Rey was at a loss for what to do, for the use of her voice on days of strengthening was reserved for only the maintenance and betterment of the wall. She saw no other choice, though, soilently, she thought, Goddess forgive me for this use of chantment. And then she began to sing a high clear song of snow, sending a storm whirling around the man, chilling him to the bone and blinding him. Even as she was pulled backwards still, she felt the man’s strength waver, and then he collapsed all at once in a heap. Rey felt the release of the chantment and she halted her own song. 

“Peace, stranger. I mean you no harm,” Rey intoned, approaching the man with caution, “I can help you.”

“He’s after me, he’s coming,” croaked the man. Rey suspected a fever was setting in, bringing delirium as well.

“Who’s coming?” Rey probed.

“You do not deceive me; you know. I can see through the seeming. Who are you pretending to be?” he croaked weakly. 

“My name is Rey, I’m a daughter of Taris. Who are you?” Rey looked into his face, seeing his features relax minutely. She was struck suddenly at how handsome he was, or rather would have been if he wasn’t covered in blood and dirt. His skin was fair, although it looked as though he had gotten some sun recently. Rey glanced down at his ankle and stifled a gasp. It was worse than she initially had thought. Through the fissure in his boot, she could see mangled bone and torn ligaments. 

“Rey,” he repeated softly, and Rey looked back to his face, her attention called by her name on his lips. She met his dark brown eyes as they looked into hers searchingly. “I must get away from here, out of the open. He will find me.”

“Come, I will take you to the dwellings and to a healer,” she murmured, “Can you stand?”

The man grunted and accepted Rey’s outstretched hands. As he rose to his full height with Rey’s support, she felt dwarfed by him. It would have been impossible to transport him back to the town square. His skin felt hot and as he stood, the blood drained from his face. He looked like a specter from another world.

“I can help a little bit,” he said, and began to sing a low growling chantment to lift his foot. 

As they moved back, Rey sang a soft chant to cool his brow, and the man growled under his breath to support his injured leg as they went. Occasionally, it would seem like he forgot to sing, or the words would die on his lips. Progress was slow and they had to halt several times as he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. 

Once, Rey tried asking, “How did you get inside the wall?” only to hear a muffled response of, “I flew.” The fever must really be taking him, she thought. 

Rey was the last to arrive back, she noted, as they finally came upon the town square. All of the novitiates and priestesses stood assembled, with Phasma and Maz at the front on the podium. A gasp arose from the women as they began to notice Rey’s arrival and the strange person she had in tow. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Phasma demanded, her cloaks billowing behind her as she hurriedly stormed over to Rey. 

“Sister Phasma, I found this man injured next to the wall,” Rey explained. 

“I mean you no harm,” he spoke, his voice crackling like fire. 

At the sound of his voice, the sisters assembled broke out in whispers and hushed chatter. They began to retreat away. Panic seemed to overtake the crowd and the man simultaneously, and he then yelled out, “I know you’re here, you will not fool me again with your deception and trickery!”

And with that, the man collapsed, apparently losing consciousness. 

“Which side of the wall, Rey?” Phasma spat out, disregarding the spectacle. 

Rey felt heat rising in her cheeks, and indignantly responded, “The inside, sister, of course! I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Yes, you could have. You neglected your number one duty - that of the protection of Antaris. Now, how did he get over the wall?” Phasma continued her interrogation, and Rey couldn’t help but notice that the entire assembly was staring. 

“I don’t know. The wall was intact and I didn’t see him enter. He was lying there when I came upon him.”

“Sister Phasma, please. Let’s get this man to Sister Amilyn for healing, and let’s have the rest of this discussion in my office,” Maz’s rejoinder came much more slowly, having approached the scene at her elderly walking speed. She signalled for two novices to fetch Amilyn, the resident healer, and turned to Rey then. “Rey, dear, go break your fast with the rest of the novices. We will speak with you later.”

Rey went to the dining hall, joining her sisters in the feast. She hadn’t realized until she sat down how tired and hungry she was. The hall was buzzing with chatter, and the feast was laid out before them. Rey filled up her plate and sighed gratefully after a bite of warm food. Bazine, a novice of similar age, sat next to her and leaned over conspiratorially and murmured, “I’m glad it was you who found him and not me! I don’t envy the tongue lashing Phasma gave you in front of everyone.”

“Well, I just hope he’s alright, that’s all,” Rey answered between bites of sweet bread dipped in soup.

“With Amilyn to fix him up, I’m sure he will be. Are you coming to the dance today?” Bazine flushed as she brought up the dance, one of the few times each year that the sisters were allowed to mingle with the townsfolk. Rey knew that Bazine had been eyeing the boys in town more and more lately, although she was still just 17 years old. 

“I don’t have much interest in the boys and their games, Baz,” Rey muttered, pushing her long braid behind her.

“Oh, right. I’m sure you’d much rather spend time with the _man_ you rescued,” Bazine smiled deviously. 

Rey felt heat rise in her cheeks and opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a young novice. “Amilyn needs royal jelly from your hives, Sister Rey,” she sang out. 

“Okay, I’ll get some now,” Rey responded, rising from the table. 

Rey was in the unique position of being both familiar with the infirmary and the healing work that Amilyn did, as well as the hives. Rey had been stationed in the infirmary as Amilyn’s apprentice for a few months as a younger novice. Maz had thought tending to the wounded or ill would be enough to still Rey’s adventurous impulses. It had taken less than a month cooped up inside to demonstrate otherwise. Rey proved to be a constant source of irritation for Amilyn, always fidgeting or staring out the windows. Amilyn had booted her out of the infirmary placement before long, and Rey had been assigned the task of beekeeping, which was outside, under the eaves of the pines. Rey had been grateful to learn the hives and natural rhythms of the bee swarms. Amilyn used royal jelly to disinfect and seal wounds, and it was kept in a safe place in the hives, where only Rey and the head beekeeper, Dymer, knew the location. 

…  
After picking the jelly up from the hives, Rey came to the infirmary, knocking on the door softly. Amilyn opened the door a hair, and when she saw it was Rey, she welcomed her in. They were on good terms now that Rey wasn’t underfoot and annoying most of the time. Amilyn greeted her warmly before showing Rey to where the man was kept. 

In one of the small rooms, the man lay on the bed asleep, a blanket draped over his massive form. The bed was too short to support his whole body, so Amilyn or one of the other sisters had placed a chair with a few cushions at the end of the bed to support his injured leg. His boot had been removed and his foot was swathed in bandages. The cut on his face had been cleaned, but no bandage could easily cover it.

“He’s lucky to have his eye,” Amilyn remarked quietly, noticing where Rey’s gaze had lingered. “I had to sedate him. He wouldn’t speak but was in a panic. I think his foot will heal but he will likely have a limp. Come and help me prepare a salve. You can apply it, as I must go speak with Sister Phasma and Mother Maz.”

Rey scooped out the jelly into a bowl while Amilyn scurried about the infirmary in search of the right herbs to make the poultice. Amilyn soon departed, satisfied with the contents of the mixture, and Rey was left alone. Rey’s hands fell into the familiar rhythm of working the pestle, grinding and consolidating. Maz had always taught that to work with your hands for the service of others, much like singing chantments, was the work of the Goddess. It was easy to feel that in these quiet moments, the hush of the infirmary surrounding her like a warm winter cloak. Once the salve had achieved an appropriate consistency, Rey set aside her pestle and entered the man’s room once again. 

His breathing was slow and deep, filling the room with a soft hum of life force that was nearly tangible to Rey. She set the pot of salve down on the table next to the bed and drew a chair up, attempting to be silent but failing as the chair’s legs skidded across the flagstones. Even still, the man did not stir. Rey let out a quiet sigh as she sat and dipped her fingers into the healing mixture. Tentatively, she patted a lump of the mixture onto his forehead, smoothing it down across his brow. She applied another heap to the opposite end of the gash, smoothing it upwards across his cheek towards his eye. Leaning in, Rey carefully spread the mixture on and around where the gash had just missed his eyelid. 

All of a sudden, she felt fingers close around her wrist, and the man’s eyes flashed open, once again wide with fear. Rey, startled, sat bolt upright, or at least as far as she could sit upright with her wrist held in place. 

He seemed to come to his senses, then, and he released her wrist. Rey cradled her wrist in her opposite hand, soothing the skin as though she were already bruised. All she could see were the deep brown eyes of this stranger, boring into hers.

“Rey.”


	2. outsider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, here's the next chapter :) I had a big block about how to write Kylo/Ben, but I have a direction to move forward with, so I'm excited to continue! Thank you for reading & see you for the next one.

"Rey." 

Her heart flipped hearing him speak her name. “Yes, I’m Rey. And you are?”

“No one of consequence,” he pronounced as he shifted his gaze around their surroundings. 

“You are in the infirmary. I was just applying a salve to your cut,” she responded. “You are safe here.”

“Thank you,” he said, “for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. This is the second time we meet like this,” Rey gave him a small smile. “I’m glad your fever has come down. Your ankle is quite injured, though. Amilyn, the head of the infirmary, thinks you will heal, but may have a limp still.” 

“It doesn’t matter. He’ll find me anyway, and that will be that.” The man leaned back, running a hand through his silky black hair and wincing as his fingers grazed his wound. 

Rey hummed a cooling song to drift across his forehead and resumed her gentle ministrations on the gash across his face. As calmly as she could muster, Rey asked, “Who is he? What does he want from you?”

“I’m Ben. Ben Solo,” he answered. 

“Ben. Well, that’s something, but it seems you’re intentionally dodging my questions,” Rey smiled, “Maybe if I ask enough, you’ll tell me more.”

His answering smile was crooked, and his eyes crinkled, “I guess we’ll see. I’m glad that it’s you here.”

Ben fixed her in his gaze, and Rey flushed. “Where are you from?”

“I’ve been almost everywhere in Tremaris, and there is no particular place I would call home,” came the reply, spoken in his low, growling baritone. 

“That’s not really an answer, but I suppose it will do,” Rey spoke thoughtfully, thinking of the land beyond the horizon she could see from the North tower. Suddenly seized by her own curiosity, she asked, “Can you tell me more about your travels? I have never left Antaris before.”

“Never? The world is very different from what’s inside the confines of these walls, little priestess.”

A shiver passed down Rey’s spine, and she opened her mouth to reply, but found no words. She fidgeted under the weight of Ben’s curious gaze, sliding the lid of the poultice jar back on. Palpable silence hung between them for a time. Rey studied his wounds, avoiding eye contact, and Ben watched her closely. Finally breaking the quiet, footsteps from outside the infirmary signalled the return of Amilyn. The door swung open and the head of the infirmary bustled in with all manner of herbs and a bowl of food. Behind her strode Sister Phasma.

“Rey, Mother Maz has requested you. I will join you shortly. Go now,” Phasma’s tone was imperious, leaving no room for disagreement or delay. 

Rey stood with a hushed, “Yes, Sister,” and turned to leave, not before sparing a moment to look back at Ben. His facial expression was now closed off and hardened, but still, his eyes lingered on her.

…

Mother Maz’s office was cozy and bright. The hearth danced with tender flames, and the waning light of the afternoon slipped in through the windows of stained glass. The office was arranged around a winged armchair at the apex of a circle, Maz’s chair. There a few other chairs arranged around a small wooden table, clear of any object aside from two cups of steaming elderberry tea. Rey waited, sitting atop a footstool next to the fire, gazing at the window panes. Despite being lined around the edges with frost, the images in the three windows were still clear: the Blazetree in the sacred valley on the left, a ring of priestesses standing hand in hand on the right, and one final, more mysterious window depicting a circle with strange markings around the edge in the center. 

Maz hobbled in, leaning on her walking stick with each step. “Dear Rey, thank you for coming. I can imagine today has been quite taxing for you. I hope tonight you will be able to rest soundly.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Rey murmured, unable to keep the affectionate smile off of her face. Maz’s returning smile was warm with maternal fondness.

“You look more and more like your mother every day, you know,” Maz spoke thoughtfully as she sat in the big armchair across from Rey. “She was a lot like you, always restless and staring out at the treetops beyond the wall.”

Rey had heard this before. She had been mistaken for her mother by a few of the older members of the community on a half a dozen occasions. Amilyn had scolded her multiple times using her mother’s name, Calida. 

“I will tell you today a bit more about her, as I think it is time. I know that today has already been quite eventful, but I suspect we may not have as much time left as I had hoped. I only ask that you listen first and save your questions for when I finish, yes?”

“What do you mean that we don’t have as much time?” Rey blurted.

Maz chuckled, “Ah, see, questions after. All will come for those who have the patience for it. Okay, now, where to begin?” 

Rey was silent then, hanging on the suspended silence, ready to soak up each word about her mother like a wrung sponge. Maz seemed to catch her own train of thought then, and began to speak.

“Calida became a full priestess on her 18th winter. She was a lot like you in more ways than I think I can name. She spent a lot of time in the North tower, as I hear you have been doing,” Maz fixed Rey with a stern but gentle look, “She also was exceptionally gifted, like you are. Your gifts lie in chantment, whereas she was, well, she radiated with life energy. Just by looking at her, you could see the power of the Goddess reflected. She was very well-loved, and very deserving of those that looked up to her. I had always planned for her to be Guardian of the Wall, and then to succeed me. That would have happened within a year of her priestess rites, but one day in midsummer, she disappeared. We still don’t know how she got outside the wall, as there was no way one chanter could sing the spell of unmaking to get through the wall. We mourned for her for months and months, but she turned out not to have died. She was gone for over two years, before she came back on a stormy winter’s day, with you in her arms. Calida didn’t make it through that first night - sick with cold, you see. But we had you, and we rejoiced. You have grown up to be a talented and skilled priestess, young Rey. You will do a fine job as Guardian once you are a full priestess.”

Rey gasped, “Mother, may I ask questions now?” 

Maz smiled and gave an affirmative. The questions seemed to spill out all at once, “I was born outside of the wall? You’re going to have me be named as Guardian? What about Phasma? My mother was to be Guardian too? Who is my father then? He must be an Outlander!”

“Peace, child. Yes, your father was an Outlander. We don’t know who he is, but you were born to your mother somewhere outside of the wall,” Maz gave a brief glance at the stained glass windows before continuing. “I had never intended that Phasma be Guardian, but when your mother left, I had no choice. Next year, you will replace her once you have completed your rites. And then, when I am too old, which is already almost upon us, you will become Mother Priestess. I am sure you have noticed, but Phasma is not particularly fond of you, and that is why. I apologize for the tension between you two. I know it has been hard for you, but just remember that she is intimidated by you.”

“Mother Maz, what did you mean by what you said earlier? About not having enough time?” 

“The Goddess works in mysterious ways, and I feel that things will be changing soon, perhaps heralded by the coming of this outsider. I still have more to tell you, but I am going to bring Phasma in now, and we will discuss this man.”

No more was said until Phasma had been summoned, and the door to Maz’s office had once more been shut.Then Phasma rounded on Rey. “Tell us exactly what happened, and don’t leave anything out.”

“I came upon him while I was performing the song of Strengthening. He was lying on the pathway on the inside of the wall and it was evident that he was quite injured. I went to approach him, but he woke up and was startled. He began to sing a chantment -”

“The songs of ice are far too high for a man’s voice,” Phasma interrupted.

“No, it wasn’t one of our songs. It was low and growling, and I felt pulled back by the collar of my tunic.”

Phasma looked at Maz, “Perhaps a wind call, then?” 

“No, it sounds like ironcrafting. Rey, you said pulled, not pushed, yes?”

“Yes, Mother,” Rey responded. 

“Yes, that must be ironcraft. Perhaps he is from Merithuros then,” Maz responded. 

“He is far too fair to be from the Merithuran desert, Mother,” Phasma rejoined, her voice edged with frustration. 

“Either way, we need to hear the rest. Rey, please continue.”

“I was able to calm him down, and he just kept saying that someone was coming after him. I brought him to the dwellings. I think he would have died had I left him there -”

“As he should have,” Phasma interrupted again.

“Phasma,” Maz intoned in warning. 

Rey continued, “I think it must have been the fever, but he said he flew over the wall when I asked.”

Maz and Phasma exchanged a look.

“In the infirmary, he didn’t tell me where he was from, but said he had traveled everywhere, all over Tremaris,” Rey couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice, “He also told me his name: Ben Solo.”

His name felt weighty on her tongue, and she now fidgeted nervously with her hands, trying to will the unbidden image of his dark brown eyes out of her mind. Phasma ran a hand through her icy blond hair with a sigh of scarcely concealed irritation.

“Well, that settles it then. We’ll take the sorcerer to the Blazetree and give him over to the Goddess,” Phasma finally said.

Rey’s mouth popped open in horror. The ritual sacrifice of draining a person’s blood, and then lifting their bones into the boughs of the Blazetree for the crows to feed on was a gruesome fate at best. 

“We have no other option, given that there is someone or something pursuing him. We can do the ritual next moondark,” Phasma continued, already organizing the logistics in her mind.

“No, I think we will heal him and then see what else he has to say. I’d like to find out where he is from and who might be pursuing him. Did he say anything else to you, Phasma?” Maz’s words were a cool balm on the burning fear inside Rey. The thought of this man subjected to ritual sacrifice was unbearable. 

“No, he refused to speak to me or to Amilyn. We need to gag him at the very least. We can’t have an errant sorcerer in our midst.” Phasma spat, clearly still irritated.

“That would defeat our purpose of information gathering. I am sure Amilyn is quite capable of keeping a single patient in check. Rey, I would like for you to visit this man as he heals to see what information you can find out. Amilyn has said that he will be up and about by the end of next week. Find Phasma or myself if there is anything important. Otherwise, you are free to go and return to your normal duties,” Maz instructed. “Go rest now, child. You will have plenty of time tomorrow.”

…  
That night, Rey had a hard time sleeping. The darkness behind her eyelids revealed imaginings of her mother, someone Rey imagined looked very similar to herself, slipping in and out of the wall very mysteriously. These images were interspersed with the brooding expression of Ben, left alone in the infirmary, as Rey was summoned away. Rey turned over in her bed, adjusting the lumpy mattress and too-thin pillow beneath her head. 

Rey turned her thoughts to Phasma, to the current Guardian of the Wall. She couldn’t imagine someone like Phasma would ever be intimidated. Rey couldn’t imagine fear twisting the haughty features of Phasma’s face. And was Rey really supposed to be Guardian? Or even someday Mother Priestess? The thought turned her stomach, of taking over the small quarters of Maz’s office, of never… of never going outside. Rey struggled to even admit the thought to herself. But then again, she had already been outside. She had been born there. 

Who had her father been? Could he have been a sorcerer, like Ben, and used chantment for his own purposes? In her schooling, Rey had learned of the existence of other types of chantment, but only today was able to name some - wind calling, ironcrafting. Maybe her father had known one of these? Or perhaps he was a trader, an ordinary man. The traders did seem to fear the priestesses though, always seeming eager to get out of the walls of Antaris once they had exchanged their goods. Rey sighed in frustration, wishing she could ask her mother. Despite it all, Rey felt grateful to have been brought back here, to have been raised as a sister. She couldn't imagine growing up any other way.

With another turn on her mattress, Rey brought her thoughts to her beloved bees. Tomorrow she would visit the hives - Corellia, Jakku, Crait, Naboo, and the others, greeting each of them in turn with a song taught to her by Dymer. It was not a song of ice or even a chantment but a simple and familiar tune meant to greet the bees. The melody of the song filled her mind and lulled her into a sleep filled with dreams of trees and the weighty gaze of strangers.


End file.
